The Journal
by RoseRed
Summary: Lucius gives Draco a journal for his birthday. After secretly reading it, Lucius decides that Draco needs to be made a Death Eater. (Warning, will be LM/DM!) Diary format.
1. November 21st through November 26th

Yet another story from the mind of RoseRed. I have so many stories that I'm currently writing. Some feedback would be greatly appreciated.  
  
The Journal By RoseRed November 21st - November 26th ----  
  
I will dig a hole, save my pennies for a rainy day. I will dig a hole, saving pennies for a rainy day. I'm not scared.  
  
I will build a wall, sense some trouble from a mile away. I will build a wall, saw them coming from a mile away. I'm not scared. I'm not scared.  
  
Try, when your insides out. I don't even try, I know I have seen the best I'll have. I don't even try.  
  
----Rainy Day, by Guster  
  
-This is the journal of Draco Malfoy. If you're reading this, you shouldn't be.  
  
November 21, 2004.  
  
Well, I guess I'll have to call you a journal, diary sounds too feminine. Father bought me this dia..sorry, journal, last week. He says that I should be writing down more of my feelings. He probably has it spelled to let him read every word as I write it. Oh well, it's not like I can keep anything a secret anymore. Even though I'm at Hogwarts, I just know he is planning something for me that I won't like. I'm at the age where Voldemort has traditionally recruited new members. I have no doubt that Father will be expecting me to be willing to take a bullet for him. In fact, he probably has Voldemort reading this too. Maybe he'll get so angry that he'll order my death. Sometimes I wonder if death would even be that bad. I don't know. There are good points to living, but there are so many bad ones as well.  
  
Today was like most of the days around here. Nothing much really happened. I decided, to Father's horror if he ever found out, to skip my afternoon classes and sit by the lake. It's the only place I have ever been able to be at peace. There is definitely no place like this pristine lake at my home. In my home, I am a prisoner. Here, I am merely awaiting sentencing. I guess I'll have to answer to Professor Snape for missing his class. That doesn't bother me. All I have to do is tell Father that he has been mis-treating me, and Snape will have to answer to Voldemort. Snape is already in a bad spot with the Death Eaters. They all suspect something, but don't know quite what it is. I know they'll figure it out sooner or later. Then, perhaps, we can all be rid of that greasy old man who thinks of himself as a God.  
  
Now that I've really searched my brain hard, I guess an interesting event did happen this morning. Maybe not interesting, but certainly noteworthy. At least it was a change from the normal routines of this school. I was walking down to the Great Hall for lunch when I ran into the Potter boy. Or as I like to call him, Voldemort's Toy. If only Potter knew what I knew. Someday, Voldemort will kill him. If he doesn't kill Potter, he'll die. I doubt very much that Voldemort would let that happen. Potter thinks he is such a Golden God. Voldemort is ten times as powerful. He grows more so each and every day. Listen to me, talking as if I admire Voldemort! Ha! Anyways, I saw Potter this morning, looking as dumb as ever. He was surrounded by his admirers. Admirers for what, not being killed as a baby? For having that damned, ugly scar? I guess it's not for me to know. When his 'brats', Weasley and Granger saw me they put Potter in an instinctual protective circle as they glared at me. Potter, unlike usual, stepped out of the circle and looked at me. It was if he had some kind of secret understanding in his eyes. I couldn't really explain it. His friends just thought he was giving me a death glare. Those two are completely clueless to everything. Maybe Potter was in a trance, or maybe he was just doing something on orders from that old moron, Dumbledore.  
  
I think I'll just sit by the lake some more before Snape or a 'brat' finds me. As much as I thought this journal would be a bad idea, it has helped to write some things down.  
  
D. M.  
  
November 26, 2004  
  
Yes, Journal, it's me again. I didn't even know if I would continue to write in you. I mean, if anyone, but Father, found out, I would be ruined. The Great Draco Malfoy writing in a journal! Everyone thinks I'm feeling less, and I intend to keep it that way.  
  
Snape did come down hard on me. He would never consider giving me detentions, or taking away house points, but he told Father, that is almost worth then death. Father immediately sent me a letter; here is a copy of it:  
  
(The Letter)  
Son,  
I have been informed of you class cutting. This is not something that a well-bread Malfoy man should be doing. If I ever find out that you have repeated this action, you will be pulled out of school without notice, and be initiated into the Dark Lord's forces.  
Sincerely,  
Father  
  
(End Letter)  
  
Father knows that the one thing he can always use against me is my hidden hate and dislike of Voldemort. He had promised me that I would be able to wait until I graduate to become a Death Eater. I've been hoping in that time to find a way out, but so far have found none. I know he would carry out his threat. Father does not lie about such things. I also know that Voldemort is only respecting Father's wishes. If he did not, I would have already become a member. Voldemort wants me by his side. He thinks I will be as loyal as his best slave, Father. I will do no such thing. I may not have much respect for mudbloods and muggles, but I will not kill them. I will not kill anyone. Killing, much to Father's dismay, has not yet become a part of me. He, on the other hand, has killed so many that I think he gets some sort of perverse pleasure when he sees someone screaming in agony. That thought sickens me. I remember last summer when he took me to a Death Eater meeting. They dressed in their black, hooded robes and put me under an invisibility cloak. I was taken with when they raided a rich muggle home in South London. The way the 'disposed' of the muggles was sickening. First, they tortured the rich father of the family. Then, they killed of his family in painful ways. Lastly, they killed him. The look on Father's face under his robe was surely one of pure delight. When he heard my small cry, I'm sure he thought it was one of delight. My father is a sick, sick man. A sick, sick man I am forced to have respected for.  
  
D. M. 


	2. November 30th through December 6th

The Journal November 30th - December 6th  
  
By RoseRed  
  
Review Me.  
  
November 30th, 2004  
  
Well, Journal, how have you been? Life here is still going at their normal dull pace. I swear, nothing new or noteworthy happens to me here. It all happens to Potter and his 'brats.' Fearing Father's wrath, I have gone to each and every one of my classes. Does Father not realize how meaningless and trivial some of it is! I wish Mother had not insisted that I go to Hogwarts. When Father had wanted me to go to Durmstrang, it was the one time I had ever agreed with him! Malfoy's should go to better schools then this. Alas, this WAS where the 'great' Voldemort had gone to school. I suppose you wonder how I can speak so horribly against him and not fear the consequences. Well, I do fear them. I just don't care. If he were to kill me now, I wouldn't have to go on and kill innocents. To bad I'm a Malfoy. I really could have done great things with myself. I mean, I've the brains, looks, charms and many other things that come with being a pureblood Malfoy. The only thing I don't like about my body is it's resemblance to Father.  
  
I recieved word from Father yesterday of Voldemort's plans. They both wish that I would join sooner then graduation. Why they don't just force me, I've no idea. Voldemort grows stronger each and every day. Soon, he will try again for Potter. I actually find myself feeling bad for the little whelp. I wouldn't want to be on the recieving end of whatever Voldemort is planning on doing to him. If only I could tell him. That would be the ultimate revenge against my father, but it would also result in my demise. That is the ultimate question in my life now : Save myself and become a Death Eater, or save Potter and die. I suppose saving him now would just mean he would die later. Damn.  
  
D.M.  
  
December 1st, 2004  
  
Today, Journal, is my birthday. It passed with little incident. I received gifts from both my parents. From my mother, a small diamond ring. It was a clear diamond set in gray stone, the band was gold. No doubt, it had cost more then the Weasleys' make in a year. Mother was always trying to make me more feminine. She had wanted a girl instead of a copy of her husband.  
  
From Father I received a most disturbing gift. Proof that he will probably be going back on his word to let me finish school. It was an amulet of solid gold. Inside, it looked like what could only be blood. Surrounding the liqued was the Malfoy crest. I had little doubt of whose blood the gift was made of. When a Death Eater's son was to follow in his footsteps, he was given an amulet filled with his father's blood. Why, I don't really no. It was supposed to be good luck. I fear that soon I will receive word from Father that I am to leave Hogwarts and join forces with them. He knows that I would hate that more then death itself.  
  
I decided that I had no choice but to warn Potter of his imminent demise. I approached him as he was heading to potions. The conversation was, as I figured it would be, quite unnerving. I approached him saying that I had to talk to him alone. He manged to get his friends to leave for a little while. I led him to a passageway that only Slytherins knew about, and told him everything. At first, I don't think he belived me, but slowly his face turned to understanding. In his heart he knew that I didn't want to become my father. He knew what few people know. That only other is Father. He knows that I do not want to become him, but he would rather kill me himself that let me disgrace the Malfoy name.  
  
If indeed Father is reading this journal, I may be dead soon. I have no idea, but I think if I'm to die, I'll sit by the lake for a little while longer.  
  
D.M.  
  
December 2nd, 2004  
  
I must try my best to remain calm. If I become excited, it will only be worse for me. I write this entry by candlelight. It may be my last. I sit now in one of Voldemort's dungeons. He allowed me to keep my journal, I think out of some perverse pleasure of knowing my last thoughts before I lose my soul. Father had been reading my journal, and so had Voldemort. It was in his insistance that Father give me the enchanted journal. I know I shouldn't have written about Potter, but I wanted some record that I was not a heartless Death Eater.  
  
When I went to the lake, yesterday, I was alone for maybe ten minutes before I felt myself being rushed to some unknown place. I don't really know how I arrived here, just know what is to come. I am to be made a Death Eater like my father. My education will be continued. Education, ha! More like learning every single dark spell there is.  
  
I hear footsteps, they are coming for me. I see them now. I see the dark hoods, I wonder which one is my Father.  
  
D.M. 


End file.
